London St Pancras (Destiel)
by mayseriouslyunusual
Summary: <html><head></head>Set during mid-to-late season 5. Sam and Dean are looking for apocalyptic warning signs, when Cas turns up telling them they need to go to New Jersey. However, something goes wrong and they end up in London St Pancras train station in the UK. Meanwhile, Cas and Dean get lovey-dovey.</html>


Dean leafed through the newspaper, scanning page after page. There was nothing, nothing of even the slightest interest to him and Sam. He sighed, picked up the next paper, and started to read. He jumped as the motel room door opened, and Sam walked in.

"Found anything?" Sam asked, closing the door.

"Nah, it's all quiet, almost too quiet. You know?" Dean leaned back and threw the newspaper onto the table.

"Yeah. There's really nothing?"

"Uh huh. You get my pie?"

"Yeah, I got your frigging pie." Sam sighed.

"Great, I'm starving." Dean went over to Sam and took the paper bag out of his hand. He reached inside and pulled out a greasy, paper wrapped lump. He unwrapped it and was about to take a bite when Castiel appeared a foot away from his face.

"Holy shit Cas!" Dean jerked backwards and the pie fell to the floor. Sam winced. "Cas," Dean said, dangerously, "you made me drop my pie."

"Yes, yes. That is of unimportance. We have to go." Cas reached out to touch the Winchester brothers' foreheads, but they ducked and stepped out of the way.

"Whoah, before you zap us someplace, I'd like to know where, and why," Dean said, putting his hands in front of him as a barrier.

"New Jersey of course."

"What, why?" Dean asked, his brow creasing.

"Something's going on, and all I know is that it's happening in New Jersey." Cas looked at the Sam and Dean expectantly.

"Can we at least take the Impala?" Dean pleaded.

"There's no time." Before they could stop him, Cas reached out and touched Sam and Dean's foreheads.

They weren't in the motel room any more. They were standing on tiles, and Dean could hear the busy hum of people just around the corner. Cas swayed for a few moments, then collapsed onto the floor. A thin line of blood trickled from his mouth.

"Cas! Cas, you okay?" Dean knelt down and helped Cas into a sitting position.

"I'm… okay." Cas coughed and a spot of blood landed on the floor. "Transatlantic… difficult."

"What do you mean, transatlantic?" Sam asked.

"I've been disrupted… knocked off course, you might say," Cas croaked, "We're in England somewhere. The trip has drained me."

"Who could have done that?" Sam asked.

"You know who," Cas replied

"_Lucifer?_" Sam said.

"Yes," Cas replied. He grimaced. "Stomach… hurts."

"Aw, come on buddy," Dean said, with forced cheerfulness," I've seen you go to Jerusalem and back without even getting short of breath.

"Yes, but that was just me, and I still had my full powers."

"Can you walk?" Sam asked, concerned.

"Yes, the pain should pass, but I may need support to start with."

"Ok." Dean put his arm around Cas' waist. "Put your arm around my shoulder." Cas did as he was bid, and they stood up. Cas gave a small grunt of pain. Sam immediately put Cas' other arm around his shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sam asked, "'Cos we can wait here 'til you're feeling better.

"I'm sure," Cas replied, his voice less shaky now, "it makes more sense for us to be out where we can see what's going on."

"Well, ok."

It was a train station. And it was busy. So busy that no-one noticed two men supporting another with blood trickling out of his mouth.

"London St Pancras," Dean read off a sign, "Hm."

"Ow!" A woman pulling a suitcase bumped into Sam, causing him to drop his half of Cas.

"Dean Dean Dean! I can't-" Cas flung both his arms around Dean's neck in an attempt to stop himself falling.

"Cas, you're choking me!" Dean gasped.

"Sorry, I can't-"

"Sam, a little help!" Dean called. Sam hurriedly took Cas' arm and replaced it around his shoulders.

"I am _really_ sorry!" The woman stuttered, her eyes wide. "Are you ok? Your friend looks like he's been beaten up. Do you want me to call station security?"

"No lady, we're fine, thanks," said Dean, "but is there anywhere Cas can sit down?"

"Uh, yes, there's a piano right over there, I'm sure people won't mind if he sits down for a while."

"Thanks." Sam and Dean helped Cas to the piano and sat him on the stool. The woman followed them.

"You have pianos in the train stations over here?" Dean asked her.

"As far as I know, it's only London St Pancras that has pianos, but they're pretty cool!" The woman paused for a minute, then dug in her purse and held a tissue out to Cas.

"What's that for?" Cas looked at the tissue in confusion.

"You're bleeding," the woman answered. Cas touched his mouth, and his fingers came away bloody.

"Oh, so I am." Cas took the tissue and dabbed his mouth.

"Cas." Dean said, warningly.

"What?"

"Remember what we talked about?" Dean said.

"Manners, yes Dean." Cas said sullenly. He turned to the woman. "Thank you."

"Oh sweetie, it's fine!" The woman smiled. "I'm the one forgetting my manners really."

"Listen, thanks for all your help," Dean said to the woman. "We're not from round here, and…"

"It's fine, you're Americans, right?"

"Yep."

"Well, they are, I'm not-" said Cas.

"Cas, shut up," Dean hissed.

"If you're okay now, I've got a train to catch, so…" The woman said.

"Yeah thanks. Oh actually, one more thing, do you know anywhere we can get a good pie?"

"Just a few more minutes and I should be ok." Cas said.

"Awesome, but look, do you know anything on the piano, 'cos people are starting to give us funny looks," Dean said.

"I don't know, maybe." Cas put his hands on the piano.

"Nah, I was joking, you don't have to…" Dean trailed off as Cas started to play.

The melody was haunting. Swells of sound seemed to float from the piano. Minor chords told a tale of wrenching sadness, and diminuendos one of hopelessness. Cas held the last, lingering note, and as the sound faded, a different one erupted from the crowd that had gathered. People clapped and cheered, and Cas gave a tiny, embarrassed smile.

"Wow, Cas." Dean clapped along with the crowd. "That was… awesome! I didn't know you could play!"

Cas regarded Dean with sincerity.

"I can't. I never learned to play the piano."

"What?" Dean asked, confused.

"I can't play the piano. But Jimmy Novak can."

"Hey, mister!" A small voice from the crowd interrupted, "Do you know any Disney songs?"

Cas regarded the small girl, who was wearing a pink coat.

"Jimmy only plays classical piano," Cas replied, then to Dean, "Her coat is hurting my eyes."

"C'mere you." Dean snaked his hand around the back of Cas' neck and kissed his forehead. Cas looked up at Dean, smiling.

"I like it when you do that."

"I know." Dean patted Cas on the shoulder. "Play something happy for the little girl, would you?"

Cas put his hands on the keys, and played a bouncy, cheerful melody that had the little girl rocking on her heels. Cas finished, and the little girl came up to him and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you mister."

As the girl's mother was leading her away, Cas looked at Dean helplessly.

"Why did she do that, Dean? Only you're supposed to do that!"

Dean ruffled Cas' hair.

"It's called being friendly, jackass. Come on. I want to get a replacement for that pie you made me drop."

There were a few disappointed noises from the crowd as the trio walked away. But Dean, Cas, and Sam paid them no mind.

"A lamb and chorizo pie for me, and a large salad pot with everything except the pasta for my brother." Dean paused for a second, then looked over his shoulder. "Cas, you want anything?"

"Dean, you know I don't eat."

"Aw, come on, have something, on me."

"I don't want to eat anything off of you-"

Dean held up his hands.

"Figure of speech Cas, God!"

"He's not here-"

"Another figure of speech Cas," Dean said, resignedly, "look, do you want anything or not?"

"Very well, I will have a 'sausage roll', please."

Dean turned back to the cashier.

"That's all, thanks."

"Ok. I'll get everything for you." The Cashier gave Cas an odd look, then went to fill their order.

Dean patted his pockets, then looked at Sam.

"I have been a real douche," Dean said.

"What do you mean?" Sam replied.

"We have no English money."

"You do now," Cas said, with a small smile.

Dean looked in his pocket and pulled out a twenty pound note.

"You're an angel!" He said, pulling Cas into a hug.

"Well, obviously…"

Dean was about to explain that it was another figure of speech, but ended up just smiling at his angelic lover.

"That'll be £12.70, thanks," the cashier interrupted.

Dean handed over the £20, and the cashier gave him a paper bag and his change.

The three men sat down at one of the tables, and Dean handed everyone their food. Dean took a bite of his pie, and smiled.

"Man, this is good, I mean, really good!"

"You see?" said Sam, munching on his salad, "I told you organic food was better."

Cas was chewing his first mouthful of sausage roll, an unsure expression on his face.

"Don't you like it Cas?" Dean asked.

"It's an unusual experience, you see I don't taste in the way you do, I can taste every molecule of this sausage, and it's rather unpleasant."

"Well." Dean reached out and took Cas' sausage roll. "Waste not want not."

Dean finished the pie and sausage in a few bites, and Sam watched incredulously.

"What?" Dean asked, through a mouthful of pastry and sausage.

"At least give yourself a chance to taste it, Dean. Jesus!" Sam replied.

"Well at least I don't take half an hour to eat one little pot of salad!"

Sam sighed, and it seemed that he deliberately slowed down to eat the rest of his salad. When he was finally done, Dean gathered up the rubbish and put it in the paper bag.

"I'll go put this stuff in the trash."

Dean got up, and went to the nearest bin.

"Excuse me?" said a woman behind him, Dean thought he recognized her from the group of people listening to Cas playing the piano.

"Yes?" he replied.

"I was just wondering what it's like having a boyfriend with mental health issues?"

Dean spluttered.

"What?"

"I mean, I couldn't help noticing your boyfriend kept referring to himself as Jimmy, and some other stuff…"

"Look, lady," said Dean, angrily, "Cas isn't crazy! The dude's come from a really crappy background, his father ruled his family, and when he left, Cas and his siblings, they didn't know what to do. Cas barely got out, and he's pretty messed up. He's been taking orders from his dad for forever, but he's never even met the guy. You can call him crazy if you want, but don't you dare do it to my face!"

The woman backed away.

"I'm sorry," she said, nervously, then hurried off. Dean slammed the rubbish into the bin and stalked back to Sam and Cas.

"Dean, are you o-" Cas started to say, but Dean cut him off by pulling him into a kiss. When it was done, he leaned his forehead on Cas'.

"Don't ever change, for anyone."

"I think I can get us home now," Cas said, standing up and reaching out to touch the brothers' foreheads.

"Whoah, not here," said Sam, "people might see us, let's go back to where we appeared."

"Ok," said Dean, "Let's go stop some apocalyptic shit."


End file.
